


Paean

by SilverSnake15



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Original Work
Genre: Apollo is a dick, Apollo is a sweet cinnamon bun, F/M, M/M, everyone deserves love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 09:56:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14566536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSnake15/pseuds/SilverSnake15
Summary: School project.





	Paean

Apollo’s domain may have been light and truth, but inside him resided darkness and uncertainty. In reality, he was the god of broken hearts and regret…  
Sing to me, O Muses. Sing to me of Phoebus, the bright one who shines in the sky. Better yet, Apollo, great lord, I humble myself before you—open your heart to me…

He says he first remembers his sister’s starry eyes as she delivered him from his mother. He also remembers that Zeus was nowhere to be found, not there to congratulate Leto or see his divine twins, and certainly not there to protect them from Python, the reptile that haunted Leto’s nightmares. At the time, Apollo was loved by only a mother and sister, and so, once Hephaestus gave him the bow, he hunted the monster and killed him. It was no easy feat, contrary to what is written. Though divine, Apollo was hardly a babe and Python had years of experience picking off prey. By the power of the Fates alone, the boy with golden hair managed to thrust an arrow into the great snake, mortally wounding it before strong fanged jaws could clamp themselves around him. And in return, Apollo forever had to honor that day, leaving some semblance of himself to echo the fate of others.

Apollo and Artemis were well received in Olympus, being children of a king. Hera with all her jealousy could not touch the prince and princess, and redirected her efforts towards punishing Zeus’ other conquests. Meanwhile, Apollo was being showered in gold. Helios had been commanded to hand the responsibility of the sun over to him, as Phaethon was still fresh in everyone’s mind. The young god also claimed music, which was quickly becoming a passion of his. He would’ve done the same with archery, if Artemis hadn’t made that face. But as long as the bow remained their art, he was content. Everyone seemed to adore him, praising his talents and beauty. All the Muses were more than inspired in his presence, and each sought him for their own. Not wanting to refuse any of them, he simply decided to refuse marriage; his sister had already done something similar. He loved each for her own charms and spirit. He’d always return to them, even if it was just to sing.  
And then he looked back down below, at the earth. So much potential, so many places to explore. This would be the site of his many failures.

Daphne was the most embarrassing one. He had never fallen for a nymph before, but thanks to Eros, he was damned. He’d heard his father and the other men talk of their conquests, of snatching the objects of their affection from the ground and into their beds, because they could. They were gods, blessed with power that they had all the freedom to use. That was what set them above everyone else. He himself caused the sun to rise and set, so why wouldn’t he deserve Daphne? The proud young god approached her, and, knowing what the gods sought from young women, she ran. Never before in his life had he been so cruelly denied. Indignation spurred him to chase after her, until her cursed father changed her into a tree, stripping her of her lovely lips and curves. Apollo swore he would never forget her, and made her his sacred tree, placing her leaves in his hair to show how dear she was to him.

Apollo, radiant of face, had many lovers after that: male and female, eastern and western. Passion coursed through him in waves, fueling his art as much as it did his heart. He really thought that Coronis was the one who would be his queen, and she might have been. But when the raven told him of her infidelity, rage overtook his great heart. In no time at all, he became the hunter he had hidden away. He didn’t like that part of him. It was a darkness deep inside, that came out rarely. That was what had put him in the mindless rage to kill Python, and to avenge his mother by slaughtering Niobe’s seven sons. This was what murdered Coronis.

As soon as he’d realized the mistake he made, he went to her, tearfully begging for time to turn back, to undo his wrongs. But instead, all he got were her final words. She was pregnant. Somehow, he managed to save the child in time (Asclepius, who would inherit his healing gifts), and gave him to Chiron, who he knew would be a much better father than he. Apollo wept, tearing at his hair, wishing something other than ichor ran through his veins so he could join Coronis down below in the dark. This crying distracted him from all his responsibilities for days on end, enough that Helios briefly resumed driving the sun chariot.

There were also some cattle sacred to Apollo that were stolen at this time, by who he would later know as his pesky little brother Hermes. Though initially angry, Apollo was pacified once he was given the lyre, a new instrument. Learning to master it, and getting to know his new sibling, took his mind off of his tragedy. Yet more heartbreak would follow.

Hyacinthus was one of Apollo’s favorites. He desired nothing more than fun and someone to wake up next to, which the golden one was more than happy to supply. But Zephyrus, the west wind, destroyed the young man in a fit, using his powers to shove the discus Apollo had tossed into the poor mortal’s head. There was hardly any blood, and Apollo hardly shed any tears. He turned the ones that hit the ground into flowers he’d name after the boy, and screamed for those watching to get out of the courtyard. Why was he the god of healing if he couldn’t save anyone?

Apollo did feel bad for Psamathe, who would end up as Creusa in some mortal’s twisted joke of a play. He wanted her, and he took her. He was tired of being denied so many times, by Fate and by little creatures who would cease long before he did. He took her, and then left, not wanting to own up to what he’d done. That was one of the reasons why his sister had distanced herself from him, forbidding him to even look at her girls. She didn’t trust him anymore, and he knew she’d be ashamed of his actions. His guilt forced him to watch as Psamathe left their child to be ripped apart in the wild. While she cried, he sent a Poena (personification of punishment) to rip through her town in revenge, hardly able to pick up his own bow. He was secretly glad when Coroebus figured out how to kill the monster—that was why he simply exiled the man, rather than send him down to Asphodel.

Later, Cassandra would use him just like he’d used others. Once he’d given her the power of foresight, she sought to profit off of his gift, and leave him in the dust. So he cursed her, preventing the wretch from having any helpful prophecy. Then Aphrodite and Eris had to go stirring things up, starting a war in Olympus that was hardly paralleled by the men below. He never forgave Cassandra, but Troy had been kind to him when he was forced by Zeus into the guise of a servant (a time he refuses to recount). His mother and sister, always there when he needed them, aided the city as well, alongside the other opinionated divinities. He tried to spare as many Trojans as he could: helping good Chryses get his daughter back, pulling Hector from the jaws of death twice, using his arrows to thin the Achaean numbers…and yet, they died. Worse than that, the city was razed. He knew it would be, he’d foreseen it. Still, the reality was so much worse than the vision, full of the death and destruction he held deep in his soul.

Now he feels more alone than ever, all but forgotten by the mortals. His name is used in jest—no one even remembers that he was born Apollon, save the scholars that dig up rocks and bones. He seeks love he cannot hope to find, and he grieves, wishing for times long past when he was but a new arrival in the heavens.

* * *

 

The title of my project, “paean,” means song or lyric poem, traditionally sung in triumph or to thank a god. Initially, paeans specifically addressed Apollo, as he was the victor in the battle against Python. Although my project focuses more on his shortcomings and losses than anything else, Apollo’s triumph comes in the form of an opportunity to finally have his side of the myths told. Never, in any of the epics or stories we read, do we ever get a real glimpse of what it is like to be a god, or specifically, to see into Apollo’s mind. Here, I attempted to divine (no pun intended) what his thoughts and feelings might be concerning some of his most famous--and infamous--exploits.

The second line of my Paean is meant to mirror Hesiod’s calling upon the Muses in the opening of the Theogony. He claims they told him about the creation of the cosmos so he could relay their stories to others. Similarly, I ask the Muses (as well as Apollo himself) for aid in crafting my narrative.

The piece is primarily chronological, beginning with Apollo’s birth. I briefly touched on his close relations and hinted that he has some resentment towards Zeus for abandoning Leto to birth the divine twins on Delos without any protection from Hera’s wrath. I found it hard to believe that even a godly baby would be able to defeat a giant snake with ease, and so his battle with Python was said to be more difficult than it was in the myths. Then, I explained that he created the oracle in Python’s cave and took on duties as the god of prophecy, as a way to repay the Fates for letting him survive. (I imagine the Fates would have gotten tired of gods constantly disturbing them just to beg for a glimpse into the future.)

Next, I describe Apollo’s and Artemis’s first trip to Olympus. The process of claiming attributes/spheres of power is discussed, briefly alluding to the myth of Phaethon in order to give Apollo the sun. He takes music for himself and agrees to share the title of divine archer with his sister. It is stressed that other Olympian gods, as well as the Muses, frequently doted on him; this newfound fame is implied to have built up his ego, making him somewhat arrogant and expecting compliments. However, it also hints that he has always had a tendency to fall in love quickly, which is soon shown to be his downfall.

By the time Apollo becomes enamored with Daphne, the other (male) gods have already had time to seduce and/or rape many different women. Following their example, the comparatively young Apollo confidently goes to win over his nymph, who immediately flees, fearing that he will take advantage of her the way his predecessors have done with her relatives. Hurt and confused as to why anyone would reject him, Apollo gives chase. He is disappointed when Daphne is changed into a laurel tree, and seeks to honor her by not only making her his sacred tree, but by (eventually) using her leaves to crown the victor of prestigious events such as the Pythian Games (an event similar to the Olympics). Whether he truly loved Daphne or simply admired her for her beauty is irrelevant. He made an effort and succeeded in immortalizing her; Daphne is the Greek word for laurel tree.

Apollo’s love life becomes even more tragic when he hears of his lover Coronis’ infidelity. He is possessed by a destructive darkness which drove him to hunt Python, kill Niobe’s seven sons without guilt, and ultimately kill Coronis. Once his mind clears, Apollo goes to her and learns that they have a son (Aesclepius) who he barely manages to save. According to Ovid, the whole ordeal makes Apollo weep for so long that he pays no mind to anything else—especially his sacred cattle, giving Hermes an excellent opportunity to steal them. The Homeric Hymn to Hermes is briefly summarized thereafter.


End file.
